


when it rains, it rains cats and dogs

by pIatonic_Iove



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: M/M, but the sideships are actually important to The Point, i have once again cursed a bit but this story is seriously a fairytale, i'm not tagging the sideships because they don't get that much word count wise, kingdom of cats, kingdom of dogs, non specific animal shifting abilities and magic, op takes deangnyang school super literally, side hyunsung, side seunglix, with a bit of surreal elements ig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28753974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pIatonic_Iove/pseuds/pIatonic_Iove
Summary: > "i think nya."> "what?"> "like, you know, nya."> "stop."// chan picks up a cat, an uncannily intelligent cat, and somewhere in between sweet dreams and jisung's wild conspiracy theories, something hits the mark // debatably a song fic based off of [cat food] but the sentiment is a bit altered //
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	when it rains, it rains cats and dogs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pigalle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigalle/gifts).



> \- this whole thing was spawned by me reminiscing the song 'cat food' - by doriko - a 2010 vocaloid song. yes, i just lift lines from the song super out of context because good artists copy; great artists steal, jk, the kingdom of cats aspect is actually from 'the cat returns'
> 
> \- this is dedicated to jenny @bangpeachchan on twt btw, because i said i would, but i prolly owe an apology for the mess instead
> 
> \- lastly, end notes, my end notes, my incredibly long end notes... i'll plug my twt up here @bme_mp4 cus it's a wall down there but without further ado!

if there’s delicious food, i’ll let you live with me

Chance meetings, no matter the circumstances, were special, but chance meetings with a cat were always just a little bit more magical. 

To spot one napping on the hood of a car while cutting through the lot on the way to class, as if it were the guardian of a portal to another realm. To make eye contact with another on a late night snack run, catching it at the other end of a walkway, no words to exchange, yet it’s like the universe winks and beyond the creature, a different world awaits, until it ambles away with a bit of your spirit. 

Similarly, that is what happened when Chan met Minho. 

It had started to pour while he was on the bus home from uni, and he was acutely aware of the fact that he’d lent his foldable umbrella to Jeongin earlier in the afternoon. That in itself hadn’t been a huge matter, highly unpleasant, but he could tuck his backpack under his hoodie and dash the couple hundred metres to his flat no problemo. 

Unfortunately, misfortunes never come alone singly. The metal fittings on one of the drain covers dipped slightly when he stepped on it, splashing his foot into a puddle. The lift, when he got to it, had broken down. And the cherry on top of the cake, after he'd resigned to take the stairs, was finding out that someone had spilled their latte across the flight between the second and third floors. 

Alright. So things weren’t that great but despite the ugly squelching of waterlogged socks in his shoes, he was almost home, almost crossing the finish line. 

That was when he saw it. 

A single cat lounged comfortably on an empty space on his shoe rack. With a full body of umber fur and luminescent chartreuse eyes, it sat as naturally as an emperor takes the throne. 

On some instinct, Chan got on one knee to get on the creature’s eye level. The feline took a great yawn. _Arise, Sir Chan of Bang…_

“Hey there, buddy.” 

The cat merely watched him impassively. 

He held out a hand and tentatively went for some under chin scritches. “Taking shelter from the rain?” 

Of course Chan didn’t expect it to answer but given the whipping winds outside the building, Chan could only assume, and his heart clenched. 

A few things ran through his mind. On the one hand, his apartment had a strict “no pets” policy. Not to mention, Jisung would absolutely freak out if he were to pay a visit. More like _when_ he does. All his friends seem to visit him on some kind of queue system, which must be a side effect of being the eldest in a friend group and having a welcoming disposition.

(See, Jisung had this weird childhood trauma about a cat supposedly speaking to him at the playground when he was in kindergarten. 

“You just watched The Cat Returns and had a nightmare afterwards.” Changbin was always quick to remind him. 

It doesn’t stop Jisung from avoiding any and all real life cat interactions like the plague while simultaneously creating an investigation board in his bedroom filled with information from feline-related nature documentaries and funky YouTube videos along the veins of Spongebob Squarepants Skin Theory.

Chan supposes it’s a case of, if you can’t handle Jisung at his cooky cat conspiracies, you don’t deserve him when he’s crunching lyrics like a machine for your soundcloud rap trio.) 

On the other, he couldn’t in good conscience leave the poor thing out in the cold. And the “free space” that the cat is taking up on his shoe rack was, in fact, the place the current pair on his feet should go. 

The balance tipping quickly in favour of doing good, he figured he could cross those bridges later. For now, he swiftly decided, he would bring the cat into his flat. 

Fishing his keys out of his pocket, he unlocks both gate and door, holding the wood wide open as he makes pointing motions and pspsps-es for the creature to enter. 

Despite no real change in the Cat’s expression, it somehow exuded an air of curious amusement as it rose on all fours and gracefully stalked over, rubbing and circling Chan’s leg before hopping into his modest abode as if in understanding. 

Eager to take off his soggy socks anyway, Chan didn’t question it, quickly peeling the disgustingly squishy articles off, wiggling his pruney toes, before closing the door behind him. 

He found the Cat standing boldly in the middle of his living room, tail somewhat parallel to the floor with a small curve at the end. 

It’s cute. 

“Well, mi casa es su casa.” Chan announced with a flourish. Verbalising his thought processes to the animal coming surprisingly naturally. “Just let me set my things down and I’ll see if I have any food around.” 

As he said that, he was already wondering if he even remembered to stock up the groceries last week while he hangs his hoodie to air and grabs newspapers to dry his shoes. One quick change of clothes later, he’s standing in his kitchen, looking into his cupboard with a ‘can cats eat human food’ tab open on his mobile browser. 

Adorably, the Cat had been following him the whole time, trotting after him when he walked anywhere and sitting on its hindlegs when he stopped, observing with its bright, glassy eyes.

Chan has only had this cat for half an hour tops, but if anything happened to him, he would kill everyone in the room and then himself.

Which was sad because for all his willingness to sacrifice for the dear he did not, in fact, remember to get groceries last week and hence had nothing to offer. 

Not one to give up, he tried the fridge and found a container of leftovers. It doesn’t contain any of the foodstuffs the article was telling him are bad for cats, but he vaguely remembered his mother avoiding the seasonings when cooking for their dog back in Australia. 

He gingerly picked up the orange tupperware. 

“I don’t suppose you can tell me if this is good enough?” He presented the frozen meal to his new friend, mind fully set on having to go out to the convenience store a few blocks down to get more appropriate cat food. 

The Cat bonked its little head onto the plastic cover as if trying to sniff at the contents. Cute. 

“Yeah this is fine.” 

“Great.” Chan straightened, ready to pour last night’s chicken quesadilla into a bowl before he stopped dead in his tracks, quickly whipping down to look at the animal. 

The Cat merely flicked its tail across the floor. “Erm, did you just?” Chan pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “No, no, of course not. That’s Jisung-talk. I must be sleeping less than I thought.” 

He threw the quesadilla away, unfairly taking his own poor sleep schedule out on the tortilla dish, and instead grabbed the long umbrella by the kitchen window. Leaning down, he gave the cat two quick pats on the head (and it’s so small in comparison to his hand, what the hell, no wonder Madarame Kyutaro did what he did.) 

“Sorry about that little guy, I’ll buy something for you just stay put in here okay.” And even though there was no way it could comprehend complex requests, just before he closed the door on the way out, he turned back to look at the cat with a pleading look. “Please don’t trash anything while I’m gone?” 

He could have sworn the cat rolled its eyes at him, but once again, that was encroaching into Jisung territory, and Chan bolted as fast as he could while being wary of the slippery floor. 

Less than 20 minutes later, he was back at the stairs of his apartment with a dozen cans of Fancy Feast (*not sponsored) of varying flavours that he figured would tide them through the early stages before he can do more thorough research into cat care. If a suspiciously Changbin sounding voice in his head says “kind of sounds like you’re committing,” that’s between him and the 4 hours of sleep he got last night. 

Opening his door, he finds the cat clearly sitting on one of the stools at the dining table, as if, truly, waiting to be served a Fancy Feast. So, really, he ought to do his research (yes, he is committing, shut up Changbin) but first, he went into his room, lays down, and goes the fuck to sleep. 

And in his dreams, he is in his room, and a handsome man with umber hair protects him from the monsters underneath his bed. 

if there’s something fun on tv, i’ll let you watch with me

It had only been a couple of days with the Cat and there were a handful (pawful?) of… oddities about Chan’s new fur friend that had him raising his eyebrows. 

Strike one, was the day that Jisung came over. 

As a matter of fact the day right after Chan welcomed his new furry friend into his house, Jisung, as if actually developing some kind of sixth sense from the years he spent indulging in the weirdest theories, showed up at his door completely unannounced, with a whole carton of oranges. 

“Hyung! My mum sent me boxes of the good kush, you gotta have some!” His chipper voice accompanies the music box rendition of some older love song that is his doorbell chime. 

Chan had shot upright from his spot at the desk, slamming his hip into the table edge. He hissed. 

But there were more pressing matters, namely preventing his cat and Jisung from seeing each other. Beating him to the punch though, the cat zips between his legs, a brown streak that punctures into the crevice under his bed. 

Oh, was it afraid of strangers? Chan never pegged it as such given how easily and willingly it seemed to waltz into Chan’s apartment but at least this was one solution to his problem. 

“Hey,” he bent, one ear pressed onto the floor as he tried to peer in, “there’s nothing to be scared of, it’s just my friend.” He couldn’t quite see the animal’s response so he put as much conviction as he could into his voice. “Well, I’m going to be closing the door for the time being, kay? Don’t be afraid, it’ll all be over soon, I promise.” 

With a last hesitant look at the bed, he closed the door to the bedroom and went out to receive his guest. Chan took the box from his friend so Jisung could toe off his shoes, following after Chan with an explanation about how his mother had gone to the countryside to visit her parents that leads, inexplicably, into a discussion about the possibilities of extraterrestrial lifeforms having already made contact with the human race. 

Chan starts tuning him out then. Jisung, in the most endearing way Chan could possibly mean this, talks a lot of nonsense. It’s entertaining and charming and he does know when to be quiet but sometimes Chan looks at him and has to wonder, “what is going on inside your head.” 

Apparently he wondered that out loud. Jisung blinked first then crossed his arms. 

“I am surrounded by non-believers.” He harrumphed indignantly. “This is why I love one man only.” 

Right. 

If there was anyone on this Earth nuttier than Jisung, it would be Hyunjin, his boyfriend, for listening to him and genuinely taking notes. Love is blind or something like that. 

“Yes, yes, of course.” 

But this thread of conversation presented Jisung another topic, one more grounded and yet more unwelcome. “Speaking of, hyung, are you sure you don’t want to go to Chaeyoung noona’s mixer this weekend?” 

Chan set the oranges down on the dining table with more force than strictly necessary. “Yes, I’m sure.” The words come out firm and unyielding. 

Jisung does a little shrug-shimmy and puts the subject down, yet Chan can’t help but hear the subtext. _Aren’t you lonely?_

The answer is so worn on his tongue at this point, that to anyone else, he would feel defeated even having to say it. No, he’s not. Is to address the question to the point. 

To elaborate, no, because he’s kept on his feet with schoolwork and a multitude of personal music related side projects that he pours his free time into. He has a wide circle of friends who keep his hands full and a smaller, tighter group within that that he would be ready to throw hands for, so all in all, he’s _comfortable_. Sure, if he meets someone, he meets someone, but Chan’s not about to pretend that he’s even looking in the slightest capacity. 

Jisung picks up an orange from the box and rolls it lightly on the table. “Want me to peel some for you? I got quite good when I helped peel a couple hundred for Puppy-Cat’s summer menu. Pretty sure my fingers are permanently immune to scurvy from that alone.” 

Puppy-Cat School being the bakery co-owned by their mutual friends and couple Felix and Seungmin, who have truly been living their combined dreams of baking and doing business. (Although it had a rather strange name because as far as Chan was aware, there were no puppies, and he sure as hell didn’t see any cats.) 

“Yes please but that’s not how scurvy works.” 

“Just because you’re working towards a doctorate doesn’t mean you’re a doctor.” Jisung stuck his tongue out and began to peel regardless. 

It’s faint but Chan could see this shadow. There was one night, months back, when he had snapped for real about the finding love thing. Though it had taken two hands to clap, a moment of weakness from having an exceptionally stressful week already and Jisung’s third unsubtle hint of that recording session. 

At the time, the younger male had cried. Sobbing into the purple carpet about how he just didn’t want his hyung to feel lonely when he was out on a date, and Chan’s older brother tendencies took over. He assured his friend he wasn’t bothered by that, and also made sure to explain why the younger’s pushiness rubbed him the wrong way. Jisung cried even harder while he apologised but there was a very real shift afterwards so that as it stands now, Jisung can raise the question lightly, like presenting oranges he could offer to peel, and Chan could pick his answers with equal light. 

Jisung had peeled a grand total of two oranges when his phone pings and he grabs it in spite of his sticky OJ fingers which makes Chan’s face vacuum into itself. Apparently Hyunjin had been waiting in the car downstairs and parking fees weren’t free. With a smile on his face, Jisung excuses himself, and it’s kind of funny how Chan can _see_ why Jisung had been enthusiastic to spread word of the attached lifestyle but he just couldn’t _taste_ it. 

Anyway, he waved to Jisung at the door, thanking him for the oranges, and headed for his closed off bedroom with speed. The Cat had been, in that time, making itself comfortable on his desk, curled under the table lamp. It leaned slightly forward towards him as he appeared in the doorway, made a displeased hiss, then quickly turned its back to him in disregard. 

Sensibly, Chan was confused but then again he probably shouldn’t profess to understand the fickle nature of animals. Instead, he figured he could maybe appease the Cat with food, you’re not yourself when you’re hungry, so he held out the citrus wedge still in his hand. “Here, want some of this?” 

The Cat rose quickly, leaping off the hardwood in a graceful arch towards Chan. In response, Chan crouched to the floor to receive the Cat. Then- 

_**smack** _

And the orange wedge splats onto the marble floor in a lifeless plop. 

“Erm…” 

Before he could finish, the Cat pushed past him, leaping first onto the stool and then onto the dining table, where the carton of oranges was. It gave the cardboard a few sniffs and nudged until the box tipped over the edge and all the poor oranges ended up bruised on to the floor. 

RIP to Jisung’s mother. 

Standing over its handiwork with the same self satisfaction as Scar leaving Mufasa to unalive, it turned around and hopped back down the way it came. 

“Not a big fan of the fruit, I’m guessing?” Chan asked, still squatting, and the Cat only flicked its tail, smacking his nose, before going back into its (his?) room. 

Chan decided to clean up first. then take a shower since the orange carcasses got sweet, sticky juice everywhere, and when he’s done, the Cat comes back to sit on his thigh. 

Strike two, was the time Chan had tried to bring the kitty to the vet. 

It didn’t go unnoticed by Chan, the way he didn’t have a name for the new animal. 

Only this time, it wasn’t about commitment. 

He’d considered the possibility, the moment the subject of names entered his brain, that despite a lack of collar, the Cat might have a microchip of some kind, and on that related note, he should probably bring it to the vet for a check up anyway. 

However, once again, the Cat’s strikingly keen senses had come into play. 

“Hmm…” he had said, looking down at the ball of felicity he was currently petting, “I’ll probably have to take you to the vet.” 

The Cat shot up with a sharp hiss, a paw digging uncomfortably into his abdomen, before it straight bounded away.

In the hours that ensued, Chan tried his best to corner the creature, but it climbed into the smallest of spaces and highest of shelves, absolutely refusing to be within arm’s reach (which was saying something because Chan had a pretty long arm span). 

Sure, Chan had heard tales of uncooperative pets but this was bordering on ridiculous. The Cat was exceptionally aware of its surroundings, never backing itself into a corner, and also outrageously resilient, never letting down its guard so long as Chan was in the same space as it. 

And then finally, it presented him an ultimatum, by jumping out of the window and onto the small ledge outside, where it thusly began to caterwaul about the height. 

For several reasons but predominantly because the clouds outside were a heavy grey and low rumbling could be heard sporadically, Chan stuck his whole upper body out of the window by standing on a stool, declaring, 

“Alright, alright! I swear I won’t bring you to the vet, now please come over here, that’s dangerous!” 

The Cat took tentative steps over to Chan, wide eyed and slightly trembling. 

Chan had kind of been planning to fake out the animal, to make a mad dash for the vet the moment he had it in his arms but just as it was almost within his reach, a loud clap of thunder booms from the sky, the animal paused a bit, distrustful, and it reminded Chan of how his swimming instructor used to tell him, “come on, just a little more, just until you can touch my hand,” even though he kept putting one foot behind the other, again and again and again. 

He swallowed a hard lump in his throat. “I swear.” There was a twinkle in the creature’s eyes before it leapt inward, and Chan fired up every nerve in his body to make the catch. A bolt of lightning tore the scenery beyond the window into two at the moment he managed to grab the Cat, stumbling back off the stool and trying to regain his balance when the back of his knees bumped into the armrest of the couch, and he let himself fall onto the plush cushion below. 

Neither human nor cat move for the next few minutes, as raindrops start to pelt on the world outside. 

“Let’s never do that again.” 

The responding ‘nyaa’ almost sounded like agreement. 

Chan let himself lie there for a couple more beats before clenching his abs to bring both himself and the Cat back into an upright position. He picked up the animal by the armpits, watching rather amusedly at the creature’s body seemed to elongate. It fixed him a frozen stare. 

‘There is something so odd about you.’ Chan wanted to say. Surely the behaviours exhibited by this little creature were much too strange, it almost seemed to have the exact understanding of his spoken language. He’d read articles before about dogs being exceptionally able to read intentions on human facial expressions but even then this was far too specific. 

He wanted to voice this, but held back. A memory of Jisung climbing onto the school roof to set up his self-made antennae to blast random frequencies entered his mind. It was a horrible memory. 

So for now, the surprisingly intelligent cat could keep its name and its secrets. 

He set it down beside him with a sigh, deciding to combat his mellow mood by turning on the TV. The channel that it opened on was the news since that was what he had last been watching. In between something depressing about a natural disaster halfway across the world and something depressing about a case of embezzlement in a top accounting firm, the Cat crossed over from his left to his right, where the remote controller was. 

It smacked the device a few times, as if resentful of its very existence. Then on a particularly hard thump, the channel switches to play The Notebook. Seemingly satisfied, the Cat crawled back onto Chan’s lap, draping itself leisurely across his thighs to watch the movie. 

Chan looked up and down a couple of times, a strange supercut of Ryan Gosling, Rachel McAdams, and Cat, and it was Strike Three. 

He picked the animal up, swivelling it around to face him. 

“Okay, are you a person trapped in a cat’s body?” 

The Cat winked at him, honest to God winked at him! 

He gasped and squeezed. “I’m going to get you out of there! I promise you! I’m going to get you out!” 

“Nya-ow!” The Cat decked him in the face and his vision plunged into a world of black. Were cats that strong? Or maybe the force just dredged up all his stress and fatigue at once, knocking him out. Because filtering between states of consciousness, Jisung tells him to kiss the Cat, just like Princess and the Frog. It’s insane but in between mind and matter, he thought about giving it a try. 

And then before him, is a handsome man whose eyes react with the moonlight to a chartreuse glow. Chan’s breath hitches. “Tell me your name.” There is a twinkle in those eyes, and the curve of a mischievous smile, then it’s back into the darkness for Chan. 

if there's a warm bed, i'll let you sleep with me

Days with the Cat stretch into weeks. Chan found his apartment now adorned with a litter box hidden behind the washing machine, a scratching post in his bedroom, and absolutely no explanation to offer his landlord for why any of those things were lying around. 

In the time, a few of his other friends drop by at least once, see: aforementioned explanation. Strangely, the Cat had wildly different reactions to each of them. 

It approached the roommates Changbin and Jeongin boldly and without restraint, showing Jeongin his belly for scritches, and playfully attacking Changbin’s ankles at every opportunity. 

Much like the first time, it darts into hiding whenever Jisung shows up, and though was hesitant about Felix at first, eventually warms up to the boy and even goes so far as to groom him. 

There is no math and science to explain the huge differences, as far as Chan was aware. However with the exception of the nagging anxiety that was the ticking time bomb of Jisung finding out, opening his arms to welcome the Cat into his life has made it take a turn for the better. 

Something as small as coming home from a long, tiring day to a warm presence that he knew lay just beyond the door. The comforting sound of another creature going about its day in his vicinity. To bigger pleasantries, like the Cat coming to sit with him, a steadfast companion while he worked, or curling into bed by his side, the rise and fall of its small, furry body such an unexpected bedrock that, like a moonstone, lulls Chan into peaceful sleep whereupon it bestows him lovely dreams. 

And what strange dreams they always were. 

For in them, though the environments shift from a fancy castle to crystal rivers without rhyme or reason, it was always the same person waiting to greet him. 

“Hey.” Tonight, it was a vivid sunset along the beach and the man was perched, feet tucked like a mermaid, on a sea stack, overlooking calm waves. He was dressed in spotless white and turned slowly at Chan’s greeting, the golden beams catching in his hair just so. 

“Hello.” He smiled. 

It was a charming smile that had Chan feeling the corners of his lips lift. He carefully maneuvered himself along the rocky surface to take a seat beside the man, letting his legs dangle. 

“How have the trade negotiations been coming along?” Chan asked, watching the fading sunlight dance orange streamers on the water. The last time they met, the man complained about the Kingdom of Dogs trying to monopolise a fishing village in the outskirts. 

“Not too shabby.” The man replied. “Afterall, those senile yappers are all bark and no bite.” He continued but there is a visible tenseness to his shoulders. 

Chan frowned, something uncomfortable sitting in his gut. But he knew nothing of politics, or royal duties, or border disputes, because all this to him was in a kingdom far, far, away. Still, with his gentle, beating heart, he longed to reach out a hand to help. 

The man looked at his expression and laughed, poking one finger at the crease between his brows to still the ripples on the surface. “But enough about me, what about you? Still struggling with that essay?” 

“Oh, it’s not so bad.” He lied, because there was no way it could be worse than whatever the man had to deal with. 

However, the man puffed out a cheek. “You can’t deceive me, Chan.” 

With a shaky laugh, Chan scratched the nape of his neck. “Really! I’ve run into a bit of a block but I’m sure it’ll be okay. If anything, I’m more concerned about how to hide you from my landlord… and, well, Jisung.” 

“Ah, the small noisy one that looks like a squirrel.” The man hummed. 

“The shoe fits.” Chan giggled. 

“I don’t like him.” The man suddenly said, with a touch more gravity on his tongue. “He reeks.” 

“Erm…” Chan can’t find anything intelligent to say. “His hygiene practices might leave a bit to be desired on the worst of days but he has a good heart if you get to know him. Okay, metaphorically, at least. I don’t think his Cheetos diet is actually any good for his heart.” 

The man threw his head back and laughed. Unabashed and free, it summons the flapping of seagulls that flutter out from behind them, peeling the dusk into night as they traversed the sky. 

Up ahead, now an inky indigo view, lines of stars flicker on, God’s favourite heroes reenacting their valour. Two crescent moons smile at each other. In the new light, the world almost shifted again, but the Man was there to anchor it. He leans his head against Chan’s shoulder and they continue to talk about anything and everything and nothing at all as they’ve done for nights on end. 

Soon, the Sun began to rise again, or at least, Chan had thought it was the Sun, until he realised the bright yellow ball wasn’t rising above the horizon but rather descending from the Heavens above. 

As a matter of fact, it was a bell. A giant sleigh bell hanging by a scarlet ribbon as it dipped lower, lower, lower. When the winds blow against it’s smooth outer layer, a shiny sound is shaken from it. 

The Man’s ears twitched and he perked up with a snap, eyes zeroing in on the source. “Oh.” He said, the word falling softly from his lips. 

“What’s that?” Chan asked, echoing the way the Man leant toward the orb. 

The Man turned back to face him. “It’s an invitation. There is to be a ball.” 

“Where?” 

“In the Kingdom of Cats.” 

Chan returned his weight to his palms, after all, sadly, the affairs of the Kingdom of Cats have nothing to do with a human like himself. 

Except, the Man continued to look at him, almost scrutinising. “Would you like to come?” 

“But I am not a cat.” 

“Of course you are.” 

Chan shook his head but in doing so, felt a strange weight upon it. Blinking, he used his hands to pat at the area, feeling two cartilage-like protrusions, one on each side. Then, still in disbelief, he brought his hands back down to observe them, only to find gray paws. 

Huh? So he _was_ a cat. 

“See?” The Man laughed, offering a hand. Chan took it without question. 

“May I have this dance?” 

Why, “of course.” 

Chan had never learnt ballroom dancing before, but here, it came easily to him. A hand on the Man’s shoulders, another in his hand, stepping forwards and back to the count of fours. When he dropped his hand from his shoulders, the Man goes for the spin, for a moment, they are only connected by their hands, then Chan catches him, the Man allows himself to be caught, and they are together again. 

They pull and push and twirl round and round, until they run out of space on the top of the sea stack. But they were unfazed, the Man took a step confidently off the edge, and a flock of magpies were there at his feet, holding him up. 

Another step, another step, they’re both completely off the ledge but the bolster of magpies prevent them from crashing into the world below. Dancing atop the river of black, white, and iridescent sheen, they lift and skip, and bask in the bewitching glow of the moons. 

The magpie carpet extended towards a large stained glass window, Chan was vaguely aware that they might crash into it but he didn’t care, not when M---- smiled at him so dazzlingly. He hears the sound of shattered glass but the suspended shards only serve to decorate them, coloured with their pretty reflected lights rather than cause harm. 

Then the magpies flap in a twister around them, the apple of my eye of the storm, and dissolve into beams of radiant light. Chan felt time bending around them as they continued to pas de deux on their slow descent, like a feather swaying on a gust. 

When their feet touch the ground, Chan realised they were in the middle of a large ballroom, milk white walls with gold embellishments. The people around them are dressed to the nines, in fine suits and majestic gowns, their faces obscured with Gatto Maschera. The Ball. Chan thought the two of them must be rather out of place then, in their simple whites. 

But when he looked back at M-n--, the Man was suddenly dressed in a rustic sable tailcoat that matched his hair. And his Gatto Maschera, an intricately carved piece, copper twisted into leaves and painted in every shade of autumn. 

He was ethereally handsome. 

M--h- caught his gobsmacked stare, eyes twinkling with wicked delight. “What’s the matter?” He asked, mid-foxtrot, “cat got your tongue?” 

“I- Well,” Chan fumbled, “you’re very handsome.” 

Despite his earlier bravado, this time it is Mi---’s turn to let his mouth open and close without words, letting only the soaring melody of the orchestra pass between them. A heartbeat, then two, my heart beats, for you. 

The moment doesn’t last long, for shortly after, there was a large commotion by the doorway. The murmurings were too harsh and overlapping to make out the situation but there was one word that latched onto their consciousness, the kind from stories to caution little children against misbehaviours. 

_Dog._

M-nh-’s grip on Chan’s hand tightened. 

Chan cast a skittish look at the other, seeing his lips drawn tight. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered, careful to keep his voice low. 

Before he could answer, the wave of panic rippled and echoed, gaining traction as it swept into the grand halls, exploding to life. 

“Seize them!” 

“A filthy mongrel!” 

“Don’t let them get away!” 

“Eek! It TOUCHED ME!” 

Two figures holding hands broke through the crowd, or rather the crowd parted around them as Noah parted the Red Sea. Hot on their heels, were a number of large, muscular looking bipedal Maine Coons, yelling all sorts of different commands as they gave chase. 

The figures, one in blonde hair to go with his cream-white Gatto Mask, and the other in a tattered hooded cloak shielding his face, ran close by Chan. 

A flash of familiarity whizzed by him. 

“Felix?!” 

The blonde fugitive whipped his head around but didn't slow down. “Chan?!” 

At this one of the Maine Coons take a good look at Chan. “This one isn’t a Cat either!” It pointed. 

“But I am!” Chan argued. 

However, he suddenly seemed to realise, all the other guests were human. 

“Oh Whiskers.” Groaned M---o from beside him. He shimmied his fingers a little, and was suddenly holding several marble-looking objects in his palms. Swiftly, he threw them onto the ground, whereupon coming into contact with the stone flooring, chip, and pour out a faint green smoke that smelt of mint. The guards and surrounding ball attendees start to cough strangely and one lady in particular even faints. Chan didn’t have time to question any part of the sequence of events, as he was quickly being tugged away by the arm. 

Not terribly far from them, Felix turned to look at the new clamour and sways on his feet.

“Catnip?” The hooded figure asked, catching his companion. 

“Yes!” Mi-h- called out, running past them with Chan. “Follow!” 

Quickly understanding, the hooded figure tries to support his partner as they limp after Mi---- but is bogged down by his progressively weakening state. Chan felt a queasiness in his gut at the sight, pulling himself away from M---o to offer assistance. He lifted Felix over his shoulder easily, the boy was light even in the real world, and pulled the hooded figure along with his other hand to resume their escape. 

Together the four of them burst out of the ballroom and into a corridor, running away from the site of the dance into the rest of the twisting labyrinthe passageways of the castle. M--h- navigated them expertly through though, past chandeliers and portrait paintings of ruling cats of the past, into drawing rooms and libraries, up the spiral stairway. 

Until they emerge on the platform of an unroofed turret, Felix back on his feet, sobered up, and M-nh- catching his breath. The triumph of successfully shaking off the royal castle’s elite guards bubbling up in their chests. Up so high, their last party member threw his head back as he barked out a laugh, and the high winds knocked off his hood. 

Chan felt like the wind knocked him over instead. “Seungmin?” 

“Erm?” The laughter faded, “Bow-wow?” Seungmin went, as Felix moved defensively in front of him. 

“I won’t forgive you if you hurt him, even if it’s you, hyung.” The blonde stood as tall as he could. 

“I won’t, I won’t!” Chan quickly held up both hands before him. Oh, Felix was a Cat, and Seungmin was a Puppy. Now Puppy-Cat makes sense. “Glad to see you two still in love even in my dreams though.” 

Felix squinted then looked over to M-nho. 

The older male shrugged, sauntering over to a telescope along the edge. “The moons are almost diametrically opposing, it’ll be morning soon.” 

Felix and Seungmin share a look between each other and then the other pair. “We’ll talk more on the That-Side?” Seungmin suggested. 

“Don’t bother,” The brunette let out a small sigh, “he won’t remember a thing when he wakes up.” 

“Oh.” Felix winced. “Rip in peace.” 

Then, hand in hand once more, they step off the ledge and vanish into the air. M--nh- seemed to watch something carefully before turning to Chan. 

“You too. Come on, we have to go.” He led them to the same ledge, hopping onto the narrow surface with ease. 

Chan stopped him with a firm grip on his wrist, urgent in case he slipped and fell into nothing like Seungmin and Felix. “Wait, please tell me your name.” 

He relaxed his hand and shook his head. “ _You_ remember my name.” 

“Wha-”

Then with his wrist still limp, he threw all his weight over the ledge, and it was Chan’s own tight grip that pulled him over too, falling alongside ^^!&#@. It’s not the lurching plummet he expected when he squeezed his eyes shut. In fact, there was only a soft and gradual sinking into a cloud. A nice fluffy embrace that rendered his mind putty and smelt sugary sweet like cotton candy. 

Chan opened his eyes slowly, rousing from sleep feeling fully rested. He doesn’t remember the full extent of his dreams but around him swam the wonderful ghosts of gently singing winds, the thrill of the chase, something warm baked into his soul. 

Beside him, the Cat was awakened by his movement. It blinked and rose, stretching itself out on the mattress, with its little paws alternating open, close, open, close. Chan reached out a hand to pet it, cooing, “good morning.” 

The Cat nuzzled into his touch, and he got up to go about his day, a spring in his step. 

It was a peaceful weekend with no classes on the schedule. He still had work to do, of course, but he could more or less work on them in the comfort of his own home. And what a fine idea too, he would finish up another point in his essay, he was feeling suddenly inspired, then he would allow himself to go down to Puppy-Cat School for a treat. Why, hello, positive reinforcement. 

He was fairly sure Felix and Seungmin appeared in his dreams last night, actually, although the context escapes him like a flickering image always out of the corner of his eye. Something he’s forgetting, something he’s forgetting, something he’s forgetting. 

But even the notion of things un-remembered slip easily from his mind, like sand through fingers, at his all around pleasant mood. 

Fully focused, he poured and poured into the Word document, in a rare moment of perfect clarity where the words came to life the moment he touched fingers to keys. That is why, he thinks, a part of his spirit didn’t spring out with him at the knock on the door. 

That is why, he thinks, he checked the peephole, something he didn’t usually do, eager to know the identity of the culprit against his productivity if even just a millisecond sooner. 

And that is what saved him from throwing his door wide open to his landlord with a cat trailing his heels. Now how did he forget THIS?! 

“Oh, no!” He scrambled, jumping backwards from the door as if burnt by the handle. 

“Oh, no!” He scooped up the unsuspecting animal that tenses at the abruptness of it all. 

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no!” He bounded, trying to keep as light on his feet as possible as he took long strides into his bedroom. 

Once at the doorway, he set the cat gently down on the ground. 

“Meow.” It went, looking offended. 

“Ssssh!” Chan gestured, at the same time that more loud banging comes from the door. 

“Mr. Bang? I can hear you in there!” 

“Ahhhh, coming!” He called, then turned back to the cat. “Please, I need you to stay here and stay quiet.” He put his palms together, a sign of pleading. Before he got to gauge the cat’s full reaction, there was another series of impatient knocks and Chan sent one last look of plea-apology before he shut one door and nigh canters to open the other. 

“Salutations!” He greeted, winded from what was probably the most stressful 14 seconds of his life. 

His landlord grunted. He was a short middle aged man whose defining personality trait, as he tended to remind people whenever he met them, was the story of how his failed marriage wound up with him coming to own an extra apartment that he didn’t know what to do with (other than, say, rent out for extra income). 

His bitterness rivalled that of a thousand cough drops melted into one singular cough drop, almost impossible to swallow in its burning desire to make itself known on the tongue. In fact, he rather reminded Chan of Edna Mode from the Incredibles when she chucks crumpled up paper at Mr. Incredible at the mere suggestion of a cape on his costume. 

Except in Mr. Oh’s case, it was the concept of rearing pets, since his ex-wife loved all manner of creatures so much she, he claimed, took on the characteristics of a bitc- I’m not going to finish that line. 

Barring the unbridled, unprovoked meanness from the sour tales of a relationship curdled like milk left out for the past five years, Mr. Oh was otherwise an easy person to make dealings with. He was precise, efficient, and sharp. For that, Chan didn’t really mind even when he once sneered at his choice of upholstery for their callbacks to She Who Must Not Be Named. Eleanor Park, that no-good, sneaky rat of a-- 

Point was, Chan didn’t mind doing business with him for the most part. Because as long as he wired his monthlies on time, he didn't hear anything else from the angry man. And conversely, when he sends messages about reimbursements on a plumbing job, for instance, he gets a response not three minutes later. 

And besides he only showed up for inspections once a year. Every 18th of June, the holy day of the Divorce. Seriously, this man almost made it his single personality trait and Chan had forgotten. 

Speaking of personality traits, the man stepped into the apartment and frowned immediately, nostrils expanding comically as he took loud, intentional whiffs. 

“Fee-fi-fo-fum.  
I smell the blood of a little cat.  
Be he alive, or be he dead.  
I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.” 

Chan waved a shaky, distracting hand before the man and laughed. “Oh, what are you talking about? Cat? Surely not.” 

The man was not swayed, the man was not bought, he crossed his arms firm, Chan feared he’d been caught. 

“I know a pussy when I smell one, Mr. Bang!” 

“Oh, don’t phrase it like that.” Chan cried. 

“You house in this space,” the man waved an accusatory finger the way fans at a concert shake a lightstick, “a demon spawn!” 

Chan had to grit his teeth not to be swept up by the barrage of madness. No. A simple house cat was hardly close to demon spawn. More importantly, he had an image to uphold, the image that in no shape or form, was there a cat in his very bedroom. 

But Chan had never really been good at lying on the spot. 

The split second delay, the subtle glance at his bedroom door. Mr. Oh latched onto that like a hunter. 

“Why is your bedroom door closed?” He asked slowly, squinting his eyes. 

“Can’t a healthy 23 year old man, have his bedroom door closed?” Chan felt heat in his face. An indignifying but surely sound enough reason. 

“No living quarters with this strong a smell of puss can possibly house a healthy 23 year old man!” Mr. Oh bellowed, and started to stomp for the door. 

Chan lurched forward quickly but missed the man by a hair. “Nooooo, wait!” 

Mr. Oh was despairingly close to the door now, one hand almost on the handle. When the handle dips on its own accord first. 

And out stepped a man so beautifully sculpted, it was as if he got bored of the restraints of his painted canvas home and decided to take a stroll, with messy brown hair and judgemental olive green eyes. Also like a painting, especially those from the Renaissance, he was stark naked. 

Mr. Oh made a sound like his namesake. 

“Min-” Chan started but was seized by a sudden wave of dizziness, gripping onto the edge of the dining table nearby, and cannot continue. 

If the sudden addition had any feelings about his grand entrance, it did not show on his face. Instead, he shifted his weight onto one leg, leaning slightly against the door frame, languid, calm, cat-like, quirked an eyebrow and breezily said. 

“What’s a couple got to do to get some privacy around here?” 

“Couple!” Mr. Oh shrieked, the moment shattered. Incidentally, the only thing he had more salt towards than the habits and evocations of his ex-wife, was the concept of what they used to have. “COUPLE?!” 

The Man shrugged, looking pointedly at Chan this time. “Well I tried.” His words were cryptic, but then he flexed his fingers and Chan remembers what’s to come from a scene in his dreams. Just like the marbles, just like the green smoke. 

Then, through the haze, with a very gooey quality to his steps, meandering wildly from side to other side, Mr. Oh dazedly walked out of the house. 

Leaving Chan to make sense of it all in the now quiet of his apartment with his cat, the Cat, the Man, his dreams? He remembered now, every time he went to sleep, the Cat laid by him on the warm bed and brought him to a magical world. 

There he was told that Cat could sometimes be Man, and that he was a Prince - a Prince! - of the Kingdom of Cats. But how strange a feeling, the rush of memories snapped free from their binding as Chan re-lived them all at once. 

Retelling childhood stories under wisteria trees, asking questions over tea. Whispering secrets by the shore, safe from the stars, moon, and sea. Often they held hands, the warm touch pleasant. Sometimes ^^!&#@ put his head in Chan’s lap, where they’d just lie, in watery sun silence as Chan mindlessly played with the other’s soft hair, braiding, unbraiding, twirling, unravelling. 

Much like rubato must be paid in kind, the eons of conversations return to him, and he could feel the weight of suddenly having aged forward a few. 

^^!&#@ sighed, hooking a finger with Chan’s and tugging ever so lightly towards the stools at the dining table. “Sit down, let’s talk?” 

“Talk.” Chan blinked dumbly, then nodded his head in an effort to rearrange his thoughts. “Yes, talk.” 

“You’ve come from the This-Side World.” Chan parroted, recalling the answer he’d been given on his first visit. 

“I have.” ^^!&#@ confirmed. 

“And we’re now in the That-Side World.” 

A nod. 

“I didn’t know you could take this form here.” 

“Hmmm.” ^^!&#@ pursed his lips, leaning his elbows on the table to sweep both legs onto the stool. “I surely can, we can. But most of us won’t. It’s just… troublesome.” 

“How so?” 

“Since it is hard to get around without a name.” 

That’s not true! Chan wanted to exclaim, he had a name and Chan knew it. Except just as suddenly as the name had shot to the tip of his tongue, it dies. “But you do have one.” 

“Yet no one will remember it.” ^^!&#@ said, dangling a challenge before his eyes. “You don’t remember it.” 

It frustrated Chan to no end that that was true. Is it because they come from different worlds? He pinched the bridge of his nose as if it could press the memory closer to the surface. It only triggers something else. “Wait, Felix and Seungmin! They’re from the This-Side as well, aren’t they?” 

^^!&#@ blinked. “Oh, yes, a real Romeo and Juliet tale, theirs.” 

“But I can remember their names.” 

“Yes.” 

Well that wasn’t helpful, Chan tried to pick at his mind some more. “I know yours too, I’m sure. Just, ugh, why can’t I remember?” 

The moment drags, ^^!&#@ opting to trace lines onto the table for a long while. 

“Because you don’t have _that_ in your heart.” 

“ _That?_ ” But just like the name that cannot be voiced, neither, Chan felt on instinct, could _that_. 

He cleared his throat, shifting gears, “but will you stay?” 

“Why?” ^^!&#@ rose, knees on the stool and palms on the table, close. “You want to kick me out?” 

“No!” Of course not! “I’m just a bit lost on what to do from here, I suppose. You can stay if you want, definitely. I’m just wondering about… the logistics? If you’re staying in this form,” Chan retreated, pointing, “I’m going to have to get you some clothes.” 

^^!&#@ looked down at himself and laughed. “Stay in this form and be confined to the boundaries and limitations set by the likes of your societies?” He asked coyly but shook his whole body and was suddenly dressed in a loose t-shirt and khakis. 

Chan didn’t want to entertain any sociological or metaphysical conundrums posed by the catboy. ^^!&#@ continued. 

“I think nya.” 

“What?” 

Inhumanly lithe, ^^!&#@ revved up, a shimmy passing through him as he leant back on his heels - a manner very like cats before the pounce. Oh no. Then he launched towards Chan. Chan stood so quickly, he knocked his stool over, but his arms were out, ready for the catch, except there was a strange distortion of the space and time, and in slow motion the thing that landed in his arms was small, and furry, and brown. 

“Like, you know, nya.” It chirped cheerfully, bright eyes, big pupils. 

“Stop.” 

And yet weeks with the Cat-Man stretch into a month, and things strangely non-change. 

^^!&#@ spent most of the day padding around the house as a cat but shifts into a man when the sun goes down. So now Chan comes home from a long day to the same warm presence just beyond the door, only bigger. A person across the dining table as they eat dinner and talk about their days. A body pressing into his side on the sofa when he takes a break from his work to watch some TV. 

Then when the time to sleep finally rolls around, they both crawl under the covers, always tickled by having to squeeze into Chan’s super single mattress. The fanciful dreams don’t come anymore, at least not that Chan remembers, but his sleep is well-rested nonetheless. 

The Cat also continued to present itself as a cat to most of his friends, but now looks extra mischievous when it swiped once again at Changbin’s ankles, despite the man’s repeated pleas for it to stop. Now fully aware that the Cat comprehends and is thus blatantly ignoring his friend, Chan chuckles at this inside joke. 

The exceptions were Felix and Seungmin, who show up about a week after the Ball with freshly baked goods in tow. They flitter uncertainly around the subject, hand in hand, until ^^!&#@ shifted so he went from perched along the back of the couch, to draped all over it. 

Felix beamed at this, tackling ^^!&#@ in a hug and they bunt their heads. Seungmin gave ^^!&#@ a small nod, which the Man returned. 

“Mi--o hyung, does this mean you’re staying here?” Felix was almost vibrating in his excitement. Chan caught the sound of his name, but the moment he tried to replicate it, it shrivelled up and crumbled to dust.

^^!&#@ gave him a wry smile. “Sorry to break it to you, but I still don’t have my name.” 

Felix frowned then, candles blown out to leave only a wisp of acrid smoke. He snuck a quick look at Chan, “I’m sorry, I just assumed…” 

^^!&#@ cupped his face, brushing a gentle thumb along his freckles. “Hush, it’s not your fault, sweet child.” 

This time Seungmin cleared his throat loudly, all but yanking Felix back to his side. ^^!&#@ raised both his hands, brimming with sarcasm. “Yes, yes, ugh, I forget how territorial you pooches are.” 

“Cats are actually more territorial than dogs.” Seungmin states matter-of-factly. 

^^!&#@ glared at him. Felix sharpened too, but towards ^^!&#@. Oh. 

So instead, it was Chan who lightly stepped in between the opposing sides. “Okay, break it up. No arguing in my house.” Which was yet another surreal non-change given how often he’d had to break up squabbles among his friends in the first place. 

All three parties take one last look and then huffily relent. Chan, decided instead to ask about how their relationship came to be if their Kingdoms were at such odds with each other. “We’re childhood friends who just moved into town!” They’d said when Chan first stepped foot into the bakery. 

^^!&#@ remembered the basket of treats and helped himself to some as Felix began his story. “Well… we met on the streets.” He picked at the material of his pants, “At the time that area was really dangerous for stray animals but the both of us were young and didn’t know. So we got chased by animal control.” 

“What we did know,” Seungmin continued, “even at that age, was that we weren’t supposed to trust each other, but… see… the enemy of my enemy is my friend or something like that? There was no one to help us so we helped each other. And have stuck by ever since.” He finished with a shrug but their hands were intertwined. 

Chan smiled at that. “That’s nice.” He furrowed his brows just a little though. “How come you were being chased at the Ball that time?” 

Felix and Seungmin exchange glances. “That is our punishment.” They say. “For disobeying the natural law of the This-Side world, every sleep when we go back, we are chased.” 

“Oh no, that sounds… difficult.” 

But they smile, toothy and confident. “We’re used to running together at least.” And Felix put a sugar doughnut in Chan’s hand. It was sweet. 

** 

It didn’t take long for Jisung, half parasite that he is, to come running to Chan’s apartment upon catching whiff that Chan had gotten himself a new cat. To begin with, it was a small miracle that the charade managed to last a whole month but supposedly Jisung was off on a cross country hunt with Hyunjin for some sort of possibly ancient, possibly alien artefact, Chan only half pays attention to anything Jisung spams in the chat at any given moment.

Which by math, also meant he half does not. Including the burst that went something like: 

HYUNG!!  
i’m not letting you off the hook that easily  
how could you!  
dishonour  
dishonour is what this is!   
i’m coming over  
don’t try to stop me  
i won’t listen  
hyunjinnie’s driving me over right now >:( 

One plus one equals two, and Jisung threw open his front door, now that he wasn’t hampered by a carton of oranges, to the sight of ^^!&#@ shifting from cat to man right there in the living room. 

“What the FUCK?!” He yelled, frozen to the spot. 

“What the-?” Chan scrambled out from his room, looked at ^^!&#@, looked at Jisung and already heaved a long suffering sigh. This was going to be a can of worms. 

“Chan hyung! This man just, he was a cat, I swear it!” Jisung flapped. Chan begged for mercy in his look towards ^^!&#@, but the latter only shrugged. 

“I know, Sung.” He resigned. 

“You DO?!” The youngest male’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Wait so, shifters DO exist? And you never thought to tell me?! Man, you’re the worst older brother figure I have and Changbin hyung won’t even hug me!” 

“Ugh,” ^^!&#@ snapped, covering his ears with his hands, “stop talking you literal Dogfucker.” 

Both humans turned to face him in sync. Would you like a side of hornets’ nest with that can of worms? 

“What?” They asked in unison. 

^^!&#@ upturned his nose away from the affronting smell. “I said what I said. The scent marking on you is absolutely rancid.” 

“Scent marking?” Jisung repeated the phrase like he’d never heard it before. 

The implication slid into place in Chan’s consciousness with a click. “Oh God, Oh Hell. You mean Hyunjin?” 

“What about me?” piped in Hyunjin, walking into the scene fashionably late and with Starbucks. Jisung must have left him to park the car and stormed up first in his impatience. However, once the tall male passed over the boundary, his face soured and he quickly reached for Jisung. 

Jisung allowed it but looked at him puzzledly. “Scent marking?” He said again, a child learning a new word. 

“Who’s scent marking who?” Hyunjin almost growled. 

“You and your mate, dumb mutt.” ^^!&#@ rolled his eyes. “Can’t say I’m surprised though. Isn’t it just like a slobbering dog to chase after squirrels?” 

Hyunjin narrowed his. “Who the hell are you anyway, fleabag?” 

Everyone in the room seemed to straighten at the vibes. 

“What’s it to you, huh?” ^^!&#@ challenged. “You and your bitch,” - Hyunjin clenched his jaw - “come into _my_ home and run your yapping mouths.” 

“Say another word and I’ll show you why they say there’s more than one way to skin a cat.” 

^^!&#@ leaned forward. “Another word.” 

There was a snarl and a wrangled meow and the two lunge for each other’s throats.

“Hey stop! No fighting in my house.” Chan shouted but was finding it difficult to insert himself into the fray of literally fighting cat and dog. 

All the while Jisung stood shell-shocked. 

“A little help here, Jisung?!” Chan yelled, at last worming his way between the fight, somewhat holding both sides at bay. 

Jisung fumbled a little but eventually managed to hook his arms around Hyunjin’s torso, drawing him back, allowing Chan the liberty of focusing on holding ^^!&#@ down. Both shifters struggle though. 

Finally, Jisung took a sharp inhale. “Hwang Hyunjin!” He commanded and Hyunjin went docile in his arms. 

^^!&#@ snickered, causing the softest of growls to start bubbling from Hyunjin again but Chan boop-ed him on the nose in chatisation. ^^!&#@ wrinkled. 

But otherwise, it blessedly took them back to Square One, only this time introductions could be made proper. First, Jisung listed himself as Chan’s childhood friend. Next, Hyunjin introduced himself as Jisung’s boyfriend, arms wrapped protectively around the smaller male the whole time. 

Then Chan calmly (with the state of semi-Nirvana peace accumulated from dealing with so much bollocks recently) explained the whole deal about shifters and the This-Side world Kingdoms of Cat and Dog to Jisung. 

“So then,” Jisung addressed this to Hyunjin, “this whole time you could have told me why I heard a cat speak when I was 5 but you just didn’t?” 

“When you put it that way.” Hyunjin choked out, hangdog. 

“But why?” 

“Well, it was rare to hear about a human who appeared to know about the This-Side world so I wanted to talk to you, see if you had any dirt on our eternal enemies. You didn’t, not exactly, but you say a lot of other really fascinating things that might prove useful so I continued to listen.” 

“You mean,” Jisung whimpered, eyes wide and watery. “You only dated me for espionage?” 

“No, babe, that’s not true!” Hyunjin hurriedly scooped the crestfallen male’s hands into his own. “That might have been why I approached you but that’s not the reason anymore because,” he let go of the hands to cup his face, looking him firmly in the eyes, “every single one of your theories are dead wrong.” 

Jisung let out a little gasp. 

“Even the android one?” He asked softly. 

“Especially the android one.” Hyunjin grimaced. 

Jisung deflated. “I think I want to go home.” 

Of course Hyunjin trailed after him, he was the one who drove them here, after all, although he sported this kicked puppy look and visibly contemplated before slinging an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

Chan watched them both go with a sense of guilt. “Will they be alright?” He couldn’t help asking. 

“Oh I’m sure they’ll be fine. That Hung-chin fella literally duelled me for his beau’s honour.” 

Chan felt an eyebrow dip. “You mean Hyunjin?” 

“Yeah.” A wistful something shot across ^^!&#@’s face. “That’s what I mean.” 

and if there’s anything you want beyond that, i’ll let you ask me

It had been awhile since Chan dreamed, no, it had been awhile since Chan came to the This-Side world. Tonight, he opened his eyes and was in a cave taking shelter from the rain. Silver droplets shone like tears that fall from the sky, cold, bitter tears. Concerned, he scaned the area, seeking out his usual companion. 

And found ^^!&#@ standing there, very close to the entrance, watching the downpour outside. 

“That’s some heavy rain, huh?” Chan said, lighting conversation. 

“It sure is.” The Man commented but didn't look away. 

Something was wrong, Chan could sense it, the atmosphere bogged down by the damp. ^^!&#@ wouldn’t look at him. “This is my first time seeing rain in the This-Side world.” He prompted. 

“It doesn’t often rain here, but sometimes it does and then it never stops.” 

“Hmm…” Chan hummed. “So we’re stranded here for tonight?” 

“Why?” ^^!&#@ replied, gesturing up to the sky. “This rain isn’t acidic. And there’s no law that states we can’t simply go and walk out into a shower, even without any raincoats, even without any destinations.” 

“That’s actually true.” Chan mused. “Does that mean we’ll go somewhere?” 

^^!&#@ turned to face him, finally! But worse, his crooked smile, his tired eyes. Chan needed to do something about it. 

“No, the water is cold, so I hate it.” 

Despite saying that, he gave a little bow and stepped out anyway. 

The contrast between words and actions stun Chan for a beat, and when his feet work again and he clambered out in pursuit, he was too late. 

Out of the cave, into a land blanketed with sheets of rain. And ^^!&#@ nowhere to be seen. 

Chan was more frantic now, he didn’t want to lose him. He had to hurry, he’d already taken a late start and had to hurry, hurry, hurry! Oh the dismay, the desperation, Chan knew next to nothing about the landscapes of the This-Side world, how would he ever find its Prince? He cupped his mouth with his hands, he’ll call his name. 

But the sound never came. 

So he ran, blindly, even without raincoat, he thinks, even without destination. Yet run he must, he was being chased by time itself. He cannot stop, lightning bolts strike uncomfortably close to his feet. 

In his throat, the name lodged in there and won’t come out. Instead he screamed. 

As if guided by his voice, a bolt finds him, strikes him down, and he spasms awake on his bed, shooting straight up. 

Even without looking, Chan could sense it, the wetness. He was too late. If he couldn’t find ^^!&#@ in the This-Side world, he surely wouldn’t be able to find him in That-Side, where he held less power. 

Although it hurt to swallow, Chan eventually did , and looked down to see that there was no cat on his bed. 

He forced himself to look around. There was no cat in his room. 

Then, really leaning into self-flagellation, he moved his feet, mechanically one after the other to search the rest of his flat, and it was deafeningly quiet. There was no cat in his house. 

** 

Right now Chan sat by himself on the sofa, sorting out his whites and colours in the laundry basket. 

Days ago, he’d gone out to Changbin and Jeongin’s and they noticed his lower mood immediately, so he had to tell them a half-truth. 

“Your cat went missing?!” Jeongin cried, distraught. He’d always adored the little thing. Even Changbin, big complainer that he tended to be about the wellbeing of his ankles, frowned. 

‘I lost him.’ Chan wanted to correct. The nuance seemed of grave importance to him, but he pushed it aside to nod hesitantly at his two friends. 

“Oh nooo. Do you know how it happened?” Jeongin prods at the same time Changbin suggests, “Maybe we can put up posters?” 

They’re trying to help, his beloved friends, extending their hands but groping blind. Because they know nothing about a different world. He took them anyway, feeling the heat on his palms as he went along with their charade. But then he had to leave, clenching his hands tightly into fists, only to find them cooled when he returned. 

Hours ago, he’d gone to Puppy-Cat School where Felix, away from the counter, refilling a tray in the display caught sight of Chan and chipperly bounced over, wiping his hands on his apron. 

“Hi!” He peered upwards, curious eyes through long lashes. “Boy do you look tired. I’ll get you a coffee, on the house.” 

Chan found himself taking a deep breath. “Felix.” 

Felix stopped in his tracks, spinning on his heel. “Yeah?” 

“Why is it that I can call you Felix?” 

The younger male made a weird face. “Well, it’s not something I can put into words.” 

“Because I don’t have _that_ in my heart?” 

“Yes and no?” 

“Well how am I supposed to acquire something I can’t know the nature of?!” 

Felix worked the coffee machine with deft fingers but kept on speaking. “Don’t phrase it that way, that’s so grave and serious. It’s really not any kind of magical gift or the sort.” The movement across his brows as he thinks very much like typing and backspacing, and mid-way he handed Chan the freshly brewed cup. “It’s just a thing that exists. You don’t have to search for it to find per se, you can also make it yourself. Kind of? Sort of? And, urgh, it’s just _that_!” 

Chan snickered derisively. “Like true love?” 

“Not like that.” Came the addition of Seungmin’s voice. Flour on his cheeks, the next batch of baked goods in his hands. He did a little shrug to indicate the slightest of sheepishness for listening in. “It’s nothing so pretty as that.” 

They're trying to help too, his other friends, they know the answer but have their arms tied behind their backs, like invigilators watching on. He brought the coffee home with him, along with Felix and Seungmin’s remorseful faces. By the time he got back, it had gone cold. He took a sip anyway. Bitter. 

So he simply set it on the table and went about his chores. Dallying, and he knew he was dallying, he at long last managed to load the clothes in the machine, adjust the settings and watched as the machine trucks on. Outside, the sky was gray, it dimmed his surroundings into monochrome. He should switch on the lights, really. 

Before he could do so, a very soft melody, an old love song came floating from his door. He sighed. 

Without pausing to use the peephole, he opened the door to find an uncharacteristically quiet Jisung. 

“Hey, hyung.” He greeted. “Can I come in?” 

Chan wordlessly sidestepped to make way. 

Jisung took off his shoes and entered with meek caution. Chan supposed finding out your lover is a Dog Shifter and your best friend not only has a Cat, creature of your nightmares, but that it’s a Shifter too does that to one. Speaking of. 

“How are things with you and Hyunjin?” Chan asked, putting the kettle on. 

“Huh?” Jisung seemed dazed. “Oh, right. We’re… talking.” 

“Good talking?” 

“Good enough.” He made a vague motion, shaking a palm parallel to the floor then helped himself to one of the higher cabinets, where the tea bags were stored. “It’s a lot to take in but I guess you’ve been there, done that?” 

Chan waited for the water to start bubbling but it’s taking excruciatingly long. 

“Are you mad at Hyunjin?” 

“Hmm…” Jisung examined all the words on the shelf, contemplating them carefully. “Not mad, not really. It’s just… such a sudden change in everything I thought I knew about my boyfriend. Then again, not everything either. He has the same puppy dog eyes whenever he’s guilty about something, only now that descriptor has a weird connotation to it, huh? I think I just… need some time to get used to things.” 

“I see.” Chan said, and suddenly he remembered. _Oh, I’m sure they’ll be alright._

“Can I ask you something else?” 

“Shoot.” Jisung responded easily, tossing over two bags of Green Tea. 

“Have you always been able to say his name?” 

“Huh?” A frown. “Whose?” 

“Hyunjin’s.” 

“Hyunjin’s?” 

Jisung looked him up and down like he’s grown a second head. “Weeeeeeell…” He finally broached. “I really don’t understand the context of that question but yes? I’ve always been able to say his name?” 

“So you have it then,” The water bubbled, “you have _that_ in your heart.” 

“What do you mean by _that_?” 

“Hell if I know!” 

“Hyung, the kettle!” 

Chan quickly twisted the knob on the stove off. The whistling fades out. 

“You okay, hyung?” Jisung was by his side, worried. 

The sky is overcast, his washing machine rumbles away. 

“Eh, sorry that was insensitive. I mean, of course not, I heard about you know, what happened.” For some reason, Chan thinks back to that time in the purple carpet recording studio. “I asked Hyunjin if he would snoop around in the This-Side world but he said he would for sure be maimed on the spot if he stepped foot into the Kingdom of Cats. We’re still trying to see if there’s anything we can do to help-” 

_ \--just trying to help you out!”  _

_ I don’t need it. _

_ But, hyuuuuung, aren’t you lonely--  _

“I’m not lonely, Sung.” He whispered, a chilly gust front slipping through broken windows. 

Jisung froze mid-sentence. “I…” He tended to have this look to him when he got awkward, like his whole body soaks in it, then hardens, and eventually thaws. He let out a choked laugh. “I rather thought you looked more upset than lonely in my professional opinion.” Then he caught his own tongue. “Sorry.” 

Was that true? 

Chan always hated the word ‘loneliness’. Not all who wander are lost and he’d always viewed it as an equal discredit to assume the same for the solitary souls out there. He hated to think he’d developed a sudden taste for loneliness just because M!&#@ left him, because what did that say about his loving family in a country miles away, about his precious friends who have his back as much as he had theirs. 

No, the cut in his heart was something else. Something he couldn’t name and he lashed out, like a wounded beast, at the things he could. 

It is raining once again. It was raining when Chan met Mi&#@. It was raining when Min#@ left Chan. Chan, who regarded the rainfall as a thing to be avoided. 

But Jisung has blown a soft counterwind. 

Upset. 

He was upset. 

The sorrowful shower of heartbreak and regret. Minh@ had given him a gift, and he’d enjoyed it without thinking, taking things for granted, and now he’s left with the once decorated box, open, empty, signs of wear and tear. 

What he got to welcome into his life was comfortable, he sat there, expecting the shore to stay despite the tides. Relationships are not built with sand, weak to the winds, weak to the waves. Yet sand heated until it melts can become glass. Even glass, when glued together, bound with heat and pressure, can become bulletproof. 

And with sudden clarity, his name bloomed, a flower whose roots seep into Chan’s bones. 

The things the others do that he did not. 

His long umbrella was leaning against the kitchen window. He reached for it. 

“Can I catch you another time, Sung? I- There’s- I think-” 

Jisung looked confused for a moment but then he giggled. “You’re going to go look for him?” 

“I think I know how to find him.” Chan felt his fingers trembling. 

“Nah, I get it. Just walk me to the train station or something? I came here on my own.” Jisung showed his empty hands. 

“Sure.” 

They leave and go down the elevator together. Only when the doors ping open, there Hyunjin was sitting, waiting on the steps. He jumped up at the sight of the pair, dusting off his butt. 

“Hyunjin?” Jisung questioned, as if it could be anyone else. “Why are you here?” 

Hyunjin fiddled with his thumbs. “I… might have followed you?” 

“Why? For espionage?” 

It made Hyunjin retreat into himself, tail between his legs almost. Even Chan winced. 

“No, baby, I’m sorry, it was supposed to be a joke.” Jisung was quick to plaster himself to the other male’s side, worrying his lips all the colours of the rainbow. “Please, let’s go home first?” 

Hyunjin softened. “Okay.” He cocked his head to the side, “we’ll have to get a bit wet though, since I didn’t bring the car with me.” 

Chan looked at the umbrella in his hand. “You guys can borrow mine if you want.” 

“Won’t you need it too though?” Jisung retorted. “It’s okay, we’ll be fine. Won’t we?” 

Hyunjin nuzzled him just under the ear. “As long as I’m with you.” 

Jisung beamed. The two of them huddle as much as possible under Hyunjin’s jacket and bid Chan a merry goodbye and good luck. 

Chan couldn't help it, the edges of his lips lift at his juniors’ shenanigans. Reinvigorated, he stepped forth on his own mission. 

Opening his umbrella, he stepped out into the rain, cupping his mouth with his free hand, and called. 

At first there was nothing, just him shouting into the void. 

Still, he called. 

Then there came a shrill cry from the magpies seeking refuge from the rain in the trees. He walked along the trail of chatters. Every time he called, the response got louder, and he followed the path to the Milky Way laden with stars. 

Through the bushes, the benches, a world flushed away by the rain, Chan pushed through. So that at the end of his journey, with one final shrill bird call like a fanfare, he was able to see a lone figure seeking shelter from the rain in the playground, curled in a crouching position under the slide, head buried in his arms. 

He doesn’t speed up to get there, knowing in his heart that they’ve found each other. Although Minho didn’t show any signs of acknowledging his presence until he was close enough that their feet touch, and he lowered himself, before the other finally lifted his head. His hair was wet, plastered onto his skin. 

Chan smiled, tilting the umbrella at an angle to keep the rain from Minho. “Hey.” 

Minho let his head drop, pressing his cheek into his forearm. “Hi.” 

“It’s raining really heavily, huh?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Can I say something?” He asked, extending a hand. 

“Go on.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

There was no real change in Minho’s expression as he searched Chan’s face, and Chan held his tongue, letting him see. Finally, a shooting star flashed across his green eyes and he made to stand, ignoring the hand as he barrelled his way under Chan’s umbrella. 

“Can I say something too?” He asked, leaning in. 

Chan nodded. 

“I hate cold water.” He scrunched his nose, displeased. 

Chan laughed, hard enough to rock the umbrella, much to Minho’s chagrin. “Okay, okay, then let’s get you dry.” 

And they set off. Even though Chan angled the umbrella more to Minho’s side, it’s virtually useless as the wind blows droplets onto them anyway. But Minho is cute when he stomped into puddles with vindication, so Chan is fine with that. 

They make it back to Chan’s apartment, and in a moment of courage, Chan suggests they just shower together. He wondered if it was a moment of courage for Minho too, who nodded wordlessly, a small pink to his cheeks. But Minho allowed him to wash his hair as well, humming unwittingly at the touch, so Chan is fine with this. 

After that, comfortably fresh and with a mug of heated milk before each person, they sit at the dining table and talk. 

“So… you’ll stay, right?” 

A petulant shrug. “I suppose I have to take shelter somewhere.” 

“Minho,” Chan said with low warning. 

Except Minho blinked rapidly at him, and then the smile bloomed, a slow creep as his whole body perked up. “Say that again.” He demanded with a childish glee. 

“Minho?” 

How his smile got brighter, and his feet flutter kicked. “Again!” 

They’ll have time for that after. 

Chan knows that the number of times he’ll call the other’s name can only multiply, trees growing into the sunlight. Be it happy tones, sad tones, ugly cuts and pretty moans. But it'll be okay, when the rain comes, they can take shelter under the flowering branches, can weather any storm. 

The rest of the conversation can wait, they’ll have time for that after. 

Chan twists all those sentiments into his words, turning them into precious stone, and spell, and promise, as he indulges his companion. 

“Minho.” 

**Author's Note:**

> bonus: chan introduces minho to changbin and jeongin by saying that they met each other while he was out looking for 'the cat'. one day they will know the truth but it is not yet that day
> 
> y'all know the scene in the disney sleeping beauty where the fairies couldn't decide if aurora's dress should be pink or blue? well i started this with the intention of having it be 3-4k and predominantly comedy, and you can pinpoint exactly where one half of my brain fell into melancholy, the two halves took turns to pilot my meatsack afterwards
> 
> \- from the bottom of my heart sorry if your name is eleanor park, i thought of eleanor and park, the book at that moment  
> \- also, i kind of saw minho as a havana brown the whole time but the other 3 shifters aren't of any specific breed to me.
> 
> re: the spin-off seunglix  
> first of all, i will prolly never write it  
> second, they've mainly grown up in the this-side world so when they say they're new in town, it's only slightly a lie since they know the area well. puppy-cat school was opened on the very street that they met and offers shelter to this-side world inhabitants in their that-side world forms. they also actively support animal rights/ adoption home charities from all over
> 
> re: the prequel hyunsung  
> first of all, i will also never write it simply because i do not know my conspiracy theories and won’t research them.  
> they met online on some forum that discusses conspiracies. both of them went by net aliases and their first interaction was when jisung was trying to pedal his talking cats agenda and hyunjin, who thought this human might know things about their kingdoms, reached out to him. it didn’t amount to much but they keep talking anyway, and genuinely become friends over the late night ramblings and the anime watch parties and the moments of emotional vulnerability. then one day, hyunjin bites the bullet and suggests they meet up irl. they go to some park and dress in their most ostentatious outfits as a joke. when he gives his “true name” and jisung catches it just fine, he bursts into tears wearing a headband designed after the aliens in toy story
> 
> my god, i am so sorry these end notes...  
> errm, if there's anything you (read through here) and still wanna ask about the world you can leave a comment orz or a cc orz  
> ... i'm so sorry...


End file.
